


Us, The Martians

by name_me_regret



Series: We’re All Martians [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Kidnapping, Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, Human Experimentation, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Identity Porn, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iron Dad, Irondad, Kidnapping, M/M, Not Avengers Endgame compliant, Not Avengers Infinity War Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Threats of Violence, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, spider son, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/name_me_regret/pseuds/name_me_regret
Summary: After the tragic events in Lagos, things start moving faster than anyone, even Tony Stark, could have predicted. There are things happening that are putting kids in danger, and Tony is scrambling to get the people he cares about safe, that is, if anyone can be safe in this changing world...
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Harley Keener, Tony Stark & Avengers, Tony Stark & Harley Keener, Tony Stark & Peter Parker
Series: We’re All Martians [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1296956
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel of Martian Child. I’m not following canon for any X-Men movies, except maybe the Hugh Jackson movies to some extent. I’m just dabbling into that universe and don’t talk to me about canon and shit. I’m trying to do something here. Hit me up and let me know what you think. I’ll probably come back and correct a few things later, so look out for edits. I’ll mention them on the notes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of something dangerous...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Edit:** I forgot to change the song name lol well, it happens.

**Us, The Martians  
Prologue**

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

_Will you hold the line?  
When every one of them is giving up or giving in, tell me  
In this house of mine?  
Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me  
Will the stars align?  
Will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sin?_

~Natural - Imagine Dragons

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

The young man, just barely sixteen, pulled his bag close to his body, his hood covering most of his face as he walked along. His clothes were tattered from many days living in the street, a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt underneath that hadn’t been washed in at least a three days.  
  
The night was cold, with a mist hanging in the air that made it even cooler for this time of night as spring was ending. It was quiet, almost too quiet being New York, but then again, it was the part where not many of the ‘good people’ of New York ever went. It was where someone could disappear, and no one saw anything, even when they had.

St JohnAllerdyce knew the risk, but he couldn’t go back home, and all the homeless shelters he’d tried had been full to capacity. He’d even tried F. E. A. S. T. but it seemed this was one of the first places to fill up . The teenager just wanted to get through this night, and then tomorrow he’d try to find the place he’d heard about. It was a school, a special school that was rumored to be for people like him; abnormal, freaks.

That’s what his parents had called him, before his dad had run him out. John had barely had enough time to grab a backpack filled with clothes and the money he’d saved up from several allowances, and from when he’d started working at the local bodega. He’d ran away from... well, he didn’t want to call it a home, since the ones that were supposed to be his family had turned on him as soon as they knew he was different. However, those people weren’t his family, since the way they treated him wasn’t how one behaved with someone they loved.

They were the freaks, not him.

His abilities had developed early, almost three years ago when he’d gone through puberty. He’d been terrified, so he had hid it. It was no comfort to John that he’d been right to hide it.

Now, none of that mattered, it was in the past. It was about survival now, and getting to that special school.

However, it seemed he would never make it.

They came seemingly out of nowhere, at least ten heavily armed men and women. He reacted instinctively, flicking open his zippo lighter as he lit it, and then used his powers to take the fire and formed a fireball. John launched it at the closest threat, and the woman fell as she was engulfed, rolling around on the ground to put out the flames.

John ignored this and instead brought his attention to the nine other threats. As he formed another fireball, one of the men were quicker as he pulled out a gun and fired. However, there was no sharp sound of a normal gun, and instead he felt a sharp pinprick of pain. He pulled the object out, eyesight starting to get fuzzy around the edges, and saw that it was a small dart.

The sixteen year old staggered back as the fireball in his hand flickered and went out with a hiss, and slid down the filthy alleyway wall. John saw that the woman was up, her tactical gear singed and smoking, and besides a burn over her left cheek, she seemed relatively unharmed. She growled and took a single step forward to kick him in the stomach as John cried out in pain, curling down around himself to guard from another attack.

“Now, don’t harm our guest too badly,” an amused voice chided the woman, who immediately backed off. An older man stepped forwards as the soldiers (mercenaries?) moved aside to let him through. He was wearing a three-piece suit, and he could have easily been someone’s grandfather, if not for the cruel glint in his eyes. When it was combined with the false smile he wore, the teen felt properly fearful. “How very nice to meet you, Mr. Allerdyce.”

John was surprised that the man knew his name.

“Oh, you’re wondering how I know your name? From your family, of course,” he chuckled. “After D.C., we’ve been monitoring things closely.” He had his arms behind his back as he paced in front of him slowly. “We pinged the call as soon as your father called the police. When he mentioned how you made the flames of a kitchen fire extinguish, I knew I had to meet you.”

The man snapped his fingers and John was hit with another dart. This one dragged him under, like dark water closing all around him. “You and I are going to get _very_ well acquainted, St. John Allerdyce,” the old man chuckled.

John wondered moments before he passed out if he would survive this acquaintance.

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

It was raining, buckets that came down so it was hard to see anything. Harley cursed as he ran down the road toward his house, his sneakers getting soaked through as his foot landed in a muddy puddle, and wished the city would pave the road. However, he doubted that they would, since there weren’t any paved streets except for the main roads of Rosehill, and this wasn't a main road. It was a side road that went along their house and several others, and that then merged with the main road that led to the interstate.

The teen cursed as he ran through another ditch, the water making the ground soft enough so he didn't fracture his ankle, but he did fall flat on his face. He coughed as he scrambled onto his hands and knees, water being splashed everywhere, and his face was covered in mud and filthy water.

Damnit, he was going to have to toss his shoes into the washer, and hopefully they dried by the morning. If not, he was going to have to deal with wet shoes for the last day of school. He hated to do it, but he might need to use some of his saved funds to buy some boots. They were expensive, but he needed to get some Wellington pull-on work boots, since he knew it was likely to rain the rest of the week.

"Mama, I'm home," he called at the door, yanking off his jacket as he shook out his wet hair. He sighed when he saw that his mom had left a towel hanging from the hook where they usually hung their coats. The back of his shirt wasn't as muddy and he used that to wipe his dirty face, glad that it was raining hard enough that most of the mud that _had_ gotten into his blonde hair had been washed out.

The adolescent, who was going to turn fourteen in a few days, towel dried his hair before draping the towel over his shoulders. His sneakers had been kicked off at the door, and his jeans and boxers soon joined them, using the towel to wrap around his waist. He wasn't too terribly skinny, but even then the large towel was able to wrap around him almost twice.

"Harley, is that you?" he heard his mother calling. She must not have heard him call out, but had likely heard the thump of his wet sneakers hitting the wall when he tossed them, along with his wet muddy clothes into the corner next to the door.

"Yeah," he called back a bit louder. "I'm gonna go shower and change! I got soaked right through!"

"Uh, yeah, hurry back down afterwards, ya hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed, going up the backstairs. Their house might have been cramped and falling in disrepair, but it was so familiar to him, having grown up here all his life. This was the only good thing their father had ever left them, an old two story white house that was nestled at the edge of the woods right outside of town. Harley and Abbie had played in those woods most of the days of summer vacations while growing up, since there was a fishing hole somewhere in the middle that was attached to a small stream.

He took a quick shower, scrubbing his hair nice and hard to get any dirt and small rocks out of the strands. He’d have to make sure to get them out of the drain cover after he was done.

Harley felt ten times better when he finally left his room, having hurried there from the bathroom since he had forgotten to bring a change of clothes, like always. “Mama, I’m as hungry an an ox,” he said, hurrying down the front steps this time, since it came down to the living room. He’d heard her from this area, so he figured she was there enjoying a hot cup of tea. While it wasn’t too cold since it was the start of summer, but there was still a bit of a chill in the air.

It was a usual thing to come in and find her enjoying some tea after a shift (or coffee if she had a second shift later), and she’d kicked off her white sneakers to be cleaned before her next shift the next morning. Only, this day was not the same as most afternoons he’d experienced, and it was because of the man sitting on the couch as Harley came in.

“Tony?” Harley asked, hand pushing back his hair away from his face. It had gotten rather long and out of control, and now tried to fix it a bit self-consciously. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, kid,” the superhero greeted with a grin. “I’m here to take you and your family to New York.”-

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gathering storm, the building twilight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m off from work for the next four days, and while I’m super surprised everyone isn’t just laid off ~~fired~~ , I’ll try to get some rest. Also, hopefully I can get out of my funk and just write. Or I’ll clean my room and be a productive person for once.... but probably not.
> 
> ~~I’m gonna regret being off from work for that long when I see my check next week, but it’s not like I got a choice. Everyone is off, ugh~~
> 
> Lemme know what y’all think of this. I have half a chapter written of chpt 2, and like four chapters of If The World Was Ending (ITWWE), and I’ll maybe post the next chapter in the next few days. Maybe, I dunno.

**Us, The Martians  
Chapter One**

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

_“So can you tell me what you've got inside?  
Well is it all those fears that you hide?  
'Cause it's all messed up now in my mind_

_Tell me how you think you'd find  
Your uninhabited piece of mind_

_You always gotta pray for the pessimist  
And these days seem the strangest existence  
Now make way and obey all the best of us  
Before they just eat you alive...”_

~Eat You Alive - Sum 41

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Peter sighed as he yanked his mask off, not sure if it had been a good day or not. He’d managed to stop several mugging, and even some guy robbing a liquor store. There had been no deaths and the only injuries that had happened was him when he’d gotten hit with a pipe by one of the muggers having a partner and hadn’t been fast enough to avoid the hit to his shoulder. However, it was the reaction of people. There had been open hostility from more people than usual, and someone had even threatened him with a crowbar. It hadn’t even been the criminals he’d been trying to stop.

He knew that not everyone liked vigilantes, and he had no qualms about that. Spider-Man was a vigilante and there were some that hated him because they thought he was getting involved in things he had no business in. There was the police force that wore the uniform and whose face you could see when they helped you. Spider-Man was a person (a kid but not that they knew about that) in a mask that came out of nowhere. Both of them saved you, but Peter guessed he could understand why they didn’t trust a faceless person.

It wasn’t to say that he wanted to reveal his identity to the world as Tony Stark had done on national television. Because there was a difference between Peter Parker and Tony Stark, which is that Peter was just fourteen. He wouldn’t be able to stand the pressure of people finding out that he is Spider-Man. Also, he is completely and utterly without a doubt certain that his aunt would stop him; and possibly kill Mr. Stark even if the man had no idea he was Spider-Man. She would put an end to the days of risking his life after school, of swinging through the air with nothing but a strand of reinforced spiderweb in his hand. He’d never again experience the feeling of free-falling through the air, and he would also not be able to save people that needed him.

For Peter, it didn’t matter if he was despised and probably threatened to be arrested by the police, because he knew that there were people that needed help. There were people that needed a Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to save them, even if it’s in a small way like stopping a purse snatcher, or getting their pet out of a tree. He wasn’t saving the world like the Avengers, but in that moment he stopped someone from being mugged, he was saving that one person’s world. While he wished he could do more, he knew in his heart that he was right where he needed to be.

And he would continue to do this even as people sneered and yelled at him to go away, and that reporter from the Daily Bugle slandered him every chance he got. None of that mattered, except that relieved smile of the person he had helped, and the wholehearted thanks.

The destruction in Lagos by the Avengers had made things more difficult for a small time vigilantes like him, and probably others like Dare Devil in Hell’s Kitchen, Iron Fist and Jessica Jones. Peter knew that people were scared that another incident like that would happen, like in Washington D.C., and thus he couldn’t blame them for their hostility. Even then, it didn’t mean their distrust hurt any less. After all, he had been doing this superhero gig for almost nine months, and he would have thought people would have realized that he just wanted to help. He didn’t care if they called him a hero or not, but he didn’t want them to call him the names some had that day.

A menace, a criminal, and worst of all, a freak. Peter hated that word, because he saw his powers now as a blessing, a way to help people. He hated it because he would admit to calling himself that when he’d first realized the things he could do, that inner part of himself that held all his self-loathing and his guilt over thinking he’d let his uncle die. That it was his fault. That part had call himself a freak for these powers.

As he pushed the button to deactivate the suit, he pulled it off and stored it in it’s case. He was always awed by the suit, having to just look at it and how freaking amazing it was and that it was his. Now, he just closed the case and put it away in his closet so May wouldn’t find it. He put some boxes of his LEGOs on top of it so she wouldn’t ask about it.

He grabbed a change of clothes and went to take a shower and washed the sweat of the day away, then prepare himself something from either a can or a box. His aunt wouldn’t be back until late and he had homework to do, or else he’d still have been out patrolling.

It’s an excuse though, because he’s smart enough to finish it quickly and without too much difficulty. He just couldn’t keep going as he was yelled at with such hatred and hostility.

Maybe things would be better tomorrow.

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Tony groaned as he threw down the paper, the New York Times this time and the scathing article that they’d written on the events in Nigeria. The world and especially the press at large (local, nationwide, and world wide) had not been merciful to the Avengers. Tony had been on the receiving end of bad press before, but this was worse than that. People were literally asking for Rogers, Romanov, Wilson and Maximoff’s immediate arrest. There were people that literally had signs that read _‘Burn The Witch’_ , or demanding for Wanda’s head.

FRIDAY indicated that there was call from another reporter, but he didn’t have time. He was up to his eyes trying to put out the metaphorical fires the others had caused in Lagos, telling them to lie low for the moment. So, he told her to take a message, and tell them he had no comment for any reporters calling asking about Lagos.

The RP team he’d hired for the Avengers was preparing a statement for the press conference that had been called. They needed to get ahead of this before things got any worse, and Tony was worried that things were already there. It was only because he had the President’s ear and trust that the military hadn’t already come to their front door.

He guessed that being detrimental in saving him and his cabinet from death three years ago was paying off. Of course he hadn’t done it for that at the time, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when he, and by extension the Avengers, needed all the support they could get.

Tony had told Vision to try and keep Wanda at the compound for now, while he sorted out the trouble with her stay in the country. The Lagos incident had come at the worst of times, since she was still waiting for her visa to come through and shouldn’t have even been out of the country. Tony hadn’t wanted any of them to go, and knew he should have tried harder to stop Steve from going.

Now it was far too late for regrets.

He picked up the next newspaper, the Daily Bugle and cursed as he saw the slander masquerading as a news article about Spider-Man. That damn J. J. Jameson. He didn’t know what the man had against the young man, but he wasn’t pulling any punches, and some of them were dirty sucker punches.

“Fuck,” he growled, throwing down the newspaper after balling it up. “FRI, call Spider-Man.”

“Connecting to Spider baby’s phone,” the Irish voice intoned. His baby girl had come a long way from when he had activated her after Ultron had killed JARVIS, and then he’d used what remained of his code to make Vision. She had learned while in battle, and while not an ideal situation for her to have been activated, she had done beautifully. FRIDAY still spoke like an A.I. and if it had been then, she wouldn’t have used Tony’s nickname for Spidey. He was so proud of her growth.

“Hello?” the man’s filtered voice came through, so that meant he was either in his suit or had put on the mask to answer the call. Spidey was another one he was proud of, since he had somehow managed to turn his own A.I. against him, and she actively prevented him and FRIDAY from tracking the young man. At least, when he was at home, and since he couldn’t get a hit on his location, it meant he was there now.

“Hey, kid,” he said, kicking the balled up newspaper that had missed the trash can and hit the floor. “How’re you holding up? I saw the... sorry excuse for an article Jameson wrote.”

He heard Spidey sigh and knew the other had also seen it. Of course he had. “Yeah.”

“You know none of it is true, right?”

Tony heard shuffling on his end and wondered if he was getting ready for bed. It was late after all. He probably had school soon, knowing that midterms were coming soon, and from his own college days, Tony knew they were hell.

“Well, some of it is,” he hedged, sounding so lost that it made Tony’s heart clench in his chest.

“None of it,” he said firmly. “You’re a hero, a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and nothing that... man says is true.” He knew he was in college, was likely in his twenties, but it somehow it felt wrong to curse in front of him, or where he could hear. Tony felt such... parental feelings toward him and Peter, that it was ridiculous. He was no one’s father, but he just couldn’t help it.

“You keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t let what he says get to you,” he told him. “You’re doing amazing... heh, the Amazing Spider-Man. It has a nice right to it, don’t you think?”

He heard the kid giggle and Tony felt his chest swell with the same feeling as when he managed to make Peter laugh. “Yeah, Mr. Stark,” he agreed.

Tony ran a hand through his hair. “Just... be careful out there, kid. Things are happening that... worry me. I don’t want you to get involved in something dangerous.” He set FRI to start saving and closing his windows, since he was too stressed to get anything else done tonight.

“I’ll be careful, Mr. Stark,” he reassured.

“Would it kill you to call me Tony?” he groused.

“Have a good night, _Mr. Stark_ ,” he emphasized cheekily.

“Such sass,” Tony grumbled. “Good night, brat.”

He waited till he heard the click of the call ending to sigh. “FRI, just... keep an eye on him when he’s out there.” He didn’t want anything to happen to the kid, still so young and idealistic. Tony wanted Spidey to maintain that... innocence for as long as possible. He wanted to keep him away from the Accords, or more specifically, from signing them, since he knew the Accords panel would insist on him unmasking.

Tony knew he had his reasons for not wanting to reveal his face and wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. He wouldn’t reveal his identity to even Tony and he’d be damned if he let someone else strong-arm him into doing it before he was ready, if he ever was.

He decided to try to get some sleep, but he doubted he’d fine able to actually rest.

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Harley looked around at the room that Tony had given him, so very different than what he was use to. The walls had Star Wars posters and he resisted the urge to rip them down, since despite his ignorance on his preferences, Tony looked like he had tried. He’d definitely take them down though, just not rip them. His mama had taught him better than to destroy something that had been given to him without having earned it. And boy had Tony really outdone himself.  
  
There was a brand new laptop with the Iron Man sticker on the back of it (the old man was presumptuous to think he was Harley’s favorite superhero). It was on a desk, which had a comfortable looking chair and a those state of the art lamps you tapped to turn on and off. There was also a ginormous bed with literal Avengers sheets (oh Lord!) that was way too big for him, but not that he was complaining. His old mattress had been a twin and it had been lumpy for the longest time. They just didn’t have the money to buy on new one, and hadn’t begrudged his mother having spent money they didn’t have to buy one for Abbie, since she couldn’t fit in her tiny bed anymore.  
  
The walls were white but he’d said that he could paint them, but he didn’t really care either way. He’d soon enough put up his own posters, Star Trek, and _not_ Star Wars. The room itself was also about twice as big as the one at home, probably three times bigger. He really liked the shelves that had textbooks on mechanical engineering, and couldn’t wait to read them. Harley wasn’t too into the physics and biology books, but maybe he’d flip through them to see if they interesting.  
  
At the moment, he was really tired. They’d packed quickly, taking only what they could carry, and Tony had reassured his mama that the rest of their stuff would either be put in storage or tossed out. Honestly, if they weren’t planning on returning, it was likely best that everything be thrown away. Or burned in the case of his old ass bed.

The furniture had all been bought second hand at a flea market and their neighbor, Fred had let them use his pick-up truck to haul it home. Their old (not that the ones they bought had been new or anything) furniture had been falling apart, and with money being tight they had to make due. They weren’t super poor or anything, but with only their mom’s job at the diner, money was tight, even when she tended to do double shifts with little sleep in between. Harley wished he was a little older so he could also get a job, but she always insisted that he needed to study, get good grades so he could go to college and get out of that small town.

Harley had been sure that even with getting good grades, he wouldn’t have gone to college. After all, colleges cost money and they barely made it without having to worry about paying for him to do more schooling. He’d planned on getting a job as a mechanic as soon as he could and then one day maybe buy out Mr. Diaz. The man had no children and he was getting old, and while not the best plan, it had been one. The only one he could think of in his thirteen years of knowledge.

Now here they were, in New York and his mom had been given a position as assistant to Pepper Potts’ PA. While it mostly consisted of making coffee, placing food orders, making copies and taking documents to certain floors, it still paid better than when she was working double shifts at the diner. Abby was going to a middle school with a good dance program, and he would start at a brain school in the Fall, and Tony had insisted he pay for tuition for both. With his attending this school, he’d have a real shot at a good school; maybe even MIT.

He threw himself on the bed with a sigh, hair still damp from the shower he’d taken and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he was going to meet Tony’s intern, who was supposedly his age. He was also going to go to the same school as him, and would have met him sooner, but he still had school for about another month when he’d gotten to New York. Harley hadn’t known how different schools were depending on which state you were in. Down south schools usually started at the beginning of August, but in the North, they apparently started at the beginning of September. And since term had ended for Harley, that meant that he would have an extra month of summer vacation.

“This is going to be the best summer ever,” he mumbled, and moments later he was drifting off.

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

John was unable to stop a whimper of pain as he was dropped onto the bed that might as well have been the floor with how hard it was, his eyesight obscured with tears and sweat, and what might have been blood. He wasn’t sure. John wasn’t sure about a lot of things, like where he was, what was going to happen to him, or how long he’d been there. They didn’t tell him anything, only dragged him out of his cell at least once a day to poke and prob at him.

They usually didn’t harm him besides stabbing him with needles every day, but today he had tried to escape. It hadn’t ended well for him, since the soldier had beaten him until he’d lost consciousness which really didn’t take much if he was honest. While he resented his parents for having turned their backs on him, they had been good parents as he had been growing up and had never struck him. John could be a bit hot-headed, but he was well liked and had never gotten in too many fights. He wasn’t use to being hit. So, it had only taken two good hits until he was down.

He could feel blood in his mouth and tried to spit it out, but it only dribbled down his mouth and over his chin. “Fuck,” he grumbled, wiping at the blood with the back of his hand. He wasn’t sure how much he could take, or even how long they’d keep him alive. John needed to get out, but perhaps thinking of a better plan other than trying to jump the guard was a start.

John had been sure he had a bit of a chance since it was a single guard, and the guy was several inches shorter than him. However, he should have known that being there and left alone meant he was clearly highly trained, and that was proven when he reacted quickly and efficiently when John tried to knock the gun out of his hand.

He’d been on the floor in mere seconds.

John wasn’t even aware of how he’d done it, but knew that he couldn’t try it again. He was already going through enough with the doctors that stuck him with needles every day, so he wanted to avoid losing anymore blood. The sixteen year old was just getting restless, since he wanted to get out of here. John may not have a home anymore, but he knew that he could still have some semblance of a life. He just needed to get out of here with that life in order for that to happen.

“Mr. Allerdyce,” he heard as the door of his cell was opened. John looked up from the bed to see the old man, whom he now recognized. He hadn’t before since he hadn’t really kept up with politics of anything, but he’d heard one of the scientist call the old guy Thaddeus Ross. He’d recognized the name then; he was the fucking Secretary of State. That meant that he had no chance of being able to live a normal life if he managed to escape. That meant that he would have to leave the country, but he didn’t know where or how he would be able to leave. He had no job skills, not even a high school diploma, and no money. John was starting to think that he wouldn’t be getting out of here, ever.

He sat up as best as he could, but he felt dizzy from the hit to the head when he’d fallen after the soldier had laid him out. “What do you want?” he asked, trying not to aggravate where they’d taken blood and pumped him with something that might have been a mild sedative. It had worn off quickly, which is why he’d felt confident that he could go through with his crazy plan.

“To discuss your test results,” he said as he stepped aside as one of the mercenaries accompanying him could set down a folding chair that he sat in. Although, now that he knew who he was, he had a sinking feeling that the ones that had attacked him weren’t mercenaries at all. They were perhaps real soldiers, the ones that were meant to protect them, not kidnap kids like him off the street. “My scientists have had a fun time studying your DNA.”

John frowned, not quite understanding. He hadn’t been the best at biology or anything having to do with science. His best subjects had mostly been reading, world history and social studies. “What about it?” he asked, not wanting to look too dumb in front of this man. He might decide that he wasn’t worth keeping alive, or that it would be better to keep him permanently sedated. Then he’d never have any chance of escape, or even survival.

“Well, in simple terms, there’s something different in your genes. You have an X and Y chromosome, all males do. Only, there’s something different in your X chromosome, a mutation you could say.” He waved in the vague direction of his hands. “That’s how you can do what you do with your hands... control fire. Very impressive, actually. I saw the video from my soldier’s body cams.”

“So, what does that mean exactly?”

“It means that any children you might make have the possibility to have this mutation in their genes.” He clapped and stood. “However, to determine that with any certainty, we need to run more tests.”

John cringed away, since he was tired of being poked with needles. He just wanted to go home, even if his parents didn’t want him there anymore. The teenager missed his bed and he could even admit missing going to school and doing homework. He just wanted to be free of this place.

“Oh don’t worry, we’ve learned all we can from you. We’re ready to move on.”

John was confused. “What? Move on?” He felt terror at thinking they might kill him now, or something worse.

Ross turned to him. “Yes, to your father to see if he has the mutation, and from there, others like you.” The same soldier came forward to take the chair, and John wondered if he could get the weapon away from him. Then he realized that he didn’t know how to even fire a weapon. There was likely a safety switch, and he had no idea if it was on or how to take it off.

So, in the end he did nothing. As he was left alone, he curled up as if he could hide away from everything that was happening to him, but he knew that there would be no escape.-

\- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~


End file.
